


A Rose and a Ring

by EgoTerentiusAfer



Series: Mamamoo domestic universe [2]
Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Aniversary, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, its so short, its soft, minor mention of alcohol, they’re just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 12:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoTerentiusAfer/pseuds/EgoTerentiusAfer
Summary: Hyejin hurries to get ready before Moonbyul gets home to celebrate their anniversary.





	A Rose and a Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Hey another Mamamoo one shot! Except it’s hwabyul!
> 
> I really couldn’t resist an opposite of wheesun in a cabin by a lake, so here’s Hwabyul in a loft in the city :D

Hyejin yawns, rolling her wrists as she stretches her arms up and over her head, twisting under the large comforter tangled around her figure. A little hum buzzes through her, toes curling, skin soaking up the sunlight that passes through the large window looking over the bed she lays in.

Her eyes open, staring out at the city through the window first, and then flitting to the digital clock on the sleek stained black nightstand.

It’s late, two minutes past two thirty, and suddenly Hyejin is pushing herself into a sitting position quickly and swinging her feet off the bed, toes testing the cold hardwood floor as she stretches her arms over her head once more. 

And up she stands, tugging the strap of her tank top back onto her shoulder and the hem down to conceal the tiny slip of skin at her hip, jogging with a slight skip in her step to the bathroom.

The white tile is colder than the hardwood, but soon her toes find the plush blue carpet they got last year—it compliments the blue tile backsplash of the shower and behind the sinks. Hyejin rubs the corner of her eye, tiny yawn slipping from her as she reaches to twist the crystal—they look like it but they’re really not—handles of the faucet, bringing the flow of cold water forth into her open palm.

It helps to wake her up, hand splashing the water onto her face, the chilling liquid on her cheeks ridding her of any leftover signs of sleep, shutting it off with a hum and reaching with one eye opened for the hand towel hanging beside the mirror, patting her face dry.

And then she stops to look in the mirror, smile tugging at her lips as she adjusts the strap of her shirt again, toes wiggling in the plush carpet.

Hyejin would take a shower if she had more time—might even do a face mask and relax while watching whatever drama was airing—but she doesn’t, exiting the bathroom and heading to their shared walk-in closet and thumbing through the hanging clothes until finding the black shorts she wants.

She hums as she slips her feet through the holes, tugging them up and over her hips, untucking her tank top and moving on to grab a top as she pulls the tank off completely.

The pitch of her hum rises slightly, satisfied when he fingers touch the red fabric of one of her button ups. With a quick tug it’s off the hanger, being slipped over her shoulder, arms through the sleeves, and being buttoned with deft fingers.

It is her job to change in and out of tons of clothes for set periods of time, the habit from work bleeding into her daily life—she’ll never change slowly again probably. 

Hyejin is exiting the closet, twisting her hair and draping it over her right shoulder, before snatching her phone from the nightstand and quickly unlocking it as she begins the descent down to the main area of the loft. 

The Bluetooth speaker is still sitting on the short glass-topped coffee table since last night when they blasted the newest songs on the charts and danced to them crazily, all wild arm movements and loud breathy laughs. Hyejin smiles, recalling that scrunched up nose she placed so many kisses to.

And then she’s snatching it up and tapping away at her screen to connect her phone, finger on the button to turn the thing on, and then grinning as she puts on one of their more frequently listened to playlists, tossing her phone onto one of the plush blue—it’s more dark turquoise—chairs.

The room is immediately filled with an r&b song, Hyejin humming along to the beginning instrumental and setting the speaker back down, turning on her heels and beginning a slight skip to the kitchen, messing with her hair again.

She mouths the lyrics when they begin, singing along softly, popping open the fridge and grabbing the apple juice without missing a beat. Hyejin sets it aside on the granite counter of the island for now. It’s equally graceful when she practically bounces to the cabinet on the other side of the kitchen—it’s quite a big kitchen for the two of them considering they don’t cook that much because of how busy they are—and opening it to snatch two wine glasses.

They can whip out the real stuff later, but Hyejin chuckles to herself, twisting back around to bring the glasses to the island, she can’t wait to see the reaction to apple juice instead of champagne. The lid to the bottle pops off easily, and she pours them with mimicked flair of a bartender—almost spilling in her theatrics that probably don’t look that impressive but she doesn’t care because she’s excited and having fun.

It’s right as she gets the apple juice back in the fridge that she hears the jingle of keys and then the click of the lock on the front door and almost gasps, eyes snapping to the time on the oven display. 

She’s early. It’s only four minutes until three o’clock.

Moonbyul was always punctual, Hyejin curses, the door swinging open to reveal the older woman.

Moonbyul stops, eyes looking up from the initial hardwood floor to settle on Hyejin, frozen by the island in the kitchen adorned with two wine glasses filled with an amber liquid.

She’s wearing shocking blue slacks to match her blue blazer—Hyejin loves Moonbyul’s shocking blue suit, only makes sense the older would wear it today, even with an added shocking blue tie she must’ve bought recently because Hyejin doesn’t recognize it—and she looks amazing. 

“I’m home,” Moonbyul finally says, cheeks tugging into a bright smile, teeth on display.

“Welcome home,” Hyejin breathes back, and it feels like Moonbyul has stolen her breath, still frozen to her spot awkwardly and trying not to look directly at what the older is trying to hide behind her back and failing.

The older chances a glance around the rest of the loft, takes in the music—now a jazz love song that gets a little risqué in the lyrics—and sets the black bag at her side down by the door, kicking off her blue heels—Hyejin hates how she always goes for a color set—and taking a few more steps into the house.

“I came a little too early didn’t I?” She chuckles, now moving into the kitchen and unveiling her item to the younger.

Hyejin cracks a tiny smile, shrugging, eyes falling down to the extended rose.

“Just one?” She asks curiously, looking back up to meet Moonbyul’s eyes.

Moonbyul purses her lips with a cute shrug, cheeks bunching in another smile. “I don’t know, I just thought of all those ‘a single rose with a letter’ and thought it was romantic,” the older explains, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and then playing with the petals of the rose.

Hyejin can’t help but grin seeing that smile, hearing that reasoning. “So you wrote me a letter too?” She asks, stepping closer to accept the rose and thread her fingers with the older’s.

“I did,” Moonbyul hums, eyes staying attached to Hyejin’s almost like she was swimming in them, “do you want to read it?”

“I do,” Hyejin smiles softly, thumb rubbing Moonbyul’s index finger affectionately.

“Careful,” The older chuckled, “I might ask you to marry me.”

At that, Hyejin rolls her eyes with a snort of a laugh through her nose, knowing she’d say those words in that context any day if it meant a ring on both of their ring fingers.

Moonbyul shoots the younger a grin, before digging into her front pocket to retrieve a fancy looking piece of stationary with a border of cherries—leave it to her to have cute stationary—and handing it to Hyejin’s free hand.

She looks a little eager, watching as Hyejin uses her thumb to open the letter and look at the neat Korean characters written in colorful ink. The younger smiles softly, tiny chuckle emanating from her at the simple words.

“I’m your rose?” Hyejin asks looking back up at the older with a cheeky grin pulled across her cheeks, “prickly and beautiful?”

Moonbyul snorts, rolling her eyes and leaning in to press a soft kiss to the younger’s cheek. “No,” she chuckles, “well yes, because you are beautiful. But I was going to say it’s cause you’re my passion, you know, cause roses are symbols of romance.”

The older looks slightly embarrassed—the pink dusting on her cheeks somewhat of a giveaway—as Hyejin shakes her head with a fond grimace.

“That’s so cheesy, oh my god,” she breathes out, trying to feign disgust but failing because of the way her cheeks pull into a fond smile.

“I love you,” Moonbyul grins, ignoring the heat that blooms in the tips of her ears and cheeks.

“I love you too,” Hyejin chuckles, pulling the older closer with their entwined fingers to return the kiss on her cheek from earlier with a soft press of her lips on Moonbyul’s, “happy anniversary.”

Moonbyul beams, making Hyejin’s chest squeeze in fondness. She’s just so so fond of the older, can’t stop smiling as wide as her cheeks will let her, setting the rose and note aside on the island.

“Oh!” The younger gasps, releasing Moonbyul’s hand from her grip and twisting quickly as the older watches in surprise.

Her fingers wrap around both of the wine glasses, twisting back around and offering one to the surprised Moonbyul with a shy chuckle, “almost forgot.”

“You didn’t pour the champagne into the flutes we bought specifically for champagne?” Moonbyul asks, a raised brow adorning her forehead as she takes the offered glass from the younger.

Hyejin grins, trying not to give away her—it’s really lame, but she wants to consider it a great prank—scheme. “These hold more,” she explains.

“Oh, so we’re drinking a lot tonight?” Moonbyul asks, bringing the glass to her slightly upturned lips and tipping it back.

It’s definitely as satisfying as Hyejin thought it would be, seeing the confusion bloom in the older’s face after a few sips, and then she’s lowering the glass to stare at the younger with the same brow raised impossibly higher.

“This isn’t champagne,” she states.

“I know,” Hyejin hums, only now bringing her own glass up to gulp the apple juice down.

Moonbyul watches her with a loud sigh. “We’re drinking apple juice on our anniversary,” she shakes her head, bringing her glass back to her lips, “We’re a lame old couple.”

Hyejin snorts, affectionately pushing Moonbyul, “we’ll bring out the champagne later,” then she slips their free hands together again and tugs gently, setting her glass down beside the rose and letter, “but later, first I want to give you your gift.”

“I thought we agreed on no gifts?” Moonbyul asks, setting her unfinished glass aside as well and letting herself be pulled into the living area by the younger, humming a few seconds of the current soft rock song.

“We did, but you got me a rose and a cute letter, so obviously neither of us listened,” Hyejin shoots a grin over her shoulder.

She stops and twists around to face the older again, pushing her gently to sit down on one of the plush red chairs on the opposite side of the coffee table than the dark turquoise couch, grinning at Moonbyul’s once again confused face, before turning and jogging back up to the bedroom space.

The tiny black gift bag is hiding where she left it in the crack between the large mirror in the closet and their shoe rack, Hyejin smiling as she snatches it up—it’s as big as her hand—and is quickly jogging back down to the older with an eager bounce.

Within seconds, she’s putting the bag in the older’s hands and rushing to sit criss cross on the couch and watch with the same eagerness clear in her smile and the way she leans forward expectantly.

Moonbyul chuckles fondly, sparing the younger from waiting any longer and peaking into the gift bag curiously. 

Her fingers pull out the small box, lips parting to ask something but then closing silently with one wide eyed glance to the younger then back to the box as she opens it.

“You—” Moonbyul shuts the box quicker than she opened it and stares wide eyed at Hyejin—who only smiles back at her—“you’re serious?”

The younger untangles her crossed legs, toes finding the hardwood again, and moved across the space between them gracefully, slipping the box from Moonbyul’s fingers gently, and sliding down onto her knees in front of the older.

Hyejin smiles at the pure shock on the older’s face as she opens the box again, presenting its contents to Moonbyul’s wide eyes and frozen figure.

“Will you marry me?” She asks softly.

Moonbyul’s mouth falls open, one of her hands moving to cover it and her nose.

“You’re, oh my god, you’re not joking,” she breathes out.

Hyejin lets out a breathy chuckle this time on her exhale, nodding.

Moonbyul shifts so she can lean forward, a hand slipping to cup Hyejin’s cheek and bring her a little closer and into a gentle kiss. And then she’s pulling back ever so slightly, breath still able to be felt on the younger’s face, noses brushing as the older breathily exhales a “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I’m also on twitter! @Aesopfics


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